


the leaves are greener

by bonniue



Category: The Run - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, No happy ending here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9832679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonniue/pseuds/bonniue
Summary: Mac had contracted the disease, Dennis knew. The bruises had already covered the expanse of his arms and legs, and his breath was fouler than the pig slop back at the farm. He slept soundly in his arms, only ever moving to twitch his nose or grunt about something in his dreams - if he was even having any.





	

**Author's Note:**

> man this is one of the best things ive ever written tbh
> 
> this was a continuation for a story i read in class that was never finished, so i took it upon myself and my dirty, evil hands to finish it :V

The leaves were a lot greener the farther you went into the forest.

Or at least, that’s what Dennis thought; working on the farm and years of trekking through the woods with only the stuff in his backpack had never led him this far into the trees, only known paths and the occasional blocked off road. 

Except this time it wasn’t only with a bag on his back, it was also with a person in his arms.

Mac had contracted the disease, Dennis knew. The bruises had already covered the expanse of his arms and legs, and his breath was fouler than the pig slop back at the farm. He slept soundly in his arms, only ever moving to twitch his nose or grunt about something in his dreams - if he was even having any.

He saw the same thing happen to Anna and Jeramiah.

Anna had walked off in the middle of the night because she knew what she would become; she knew that she would fall asleep and wake up a monster instead of a human. In the morning, Mac followed her tracks and found her asleep on a rock, black and purple covering the gash on her leg and trickling up and down her body. He took her back to camp and only said that she had fallen and gone unconscious when Jeramiah asked what happened.

He didn’t know enough about the disease, but he was a smart kid with little more innocence left to lose. He knew how the man in the gas station looked like, and one look at the girl in front of him told him that she was not ok.

She stayed asleep for two days while the others camped out in the clearing. Dennis tried to ignore it. Jeramiah cried next to the fire. Mac comforted him.

Jeramiah didn’t cry anymore once he saw Dennis bash Anna’s head in with a rock while Mac held her in place.

They left the clearing because Anna’s dark blood was going to attract the rest of the plague victims and the sight of her body was too upsetting to look at. It almost seemed like a waste of a human life to rescue her and then leave her body on the grass exposed to the elements; almost dishonorable.

They drove back and buried her with a makeshift wooden cross with only the name “Anna” carved into it.

Mac and Dennis had tears in their eyes.

Jeramiah did not cry.

They drove with the remaining tank of gas they had left until they stopped at a different gas station. They planned to run inside and grab what they could and get out - without placing any money on the counter. “Remember your manners” had flown right out the window as they pushed the bags, cans, and containers of food and water into their bags.

The next day, a horde had found them.

The truck spat and sputtered, the keys shaking in Dennis’s trembling hand. Mac was screaming for him to go and for Jeramiah to get into the truck as the boy stared with wide, fearful eyes at the people running towards them. Once the engine had started, it was too late. The crowd had reached the truck, and dove for the child first, grasping at his arms with inhuman strength, flinging him out of the bed and into the mass of crazed people.

“We have to go back for him!” Mac screamed, trying to open the door only to find that it was locked. Dennis roughly grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“We can’t Mac! There’re too many zombies!”

“He’s just a kid Dennis! He’s gonna die if we don’t do anything-”

“We’re gonna die if we try to save him! Open your eyes, he’s gone!”

Mac succeeded in opening the door but the pavement moving underneath him brought him back to reality. If he stepped out, he’d probably break his legs and scrape his skin raw, giving the horde a perfect chance to pick him up and feast.

He closed the door and sat back in his seat, the tears finally filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. He refused to look in the mirror like Dennis and find a boy being ripped to shreds as the purple and blue bruises formed instantly.

Jeramiah did not cry, only screamed.

Mac had been bitten two weeks later on a trip into a house to scavenge for food and water on their way back to the farm. They had escaped together.

Dennis had only noticed the bite on his hand a couple days later as he noticed Mac wrapping it. It was covered in purple and black that extended up to his shoulder. He grabbed his good wrist and brought it up in front of him.

“Mac,” he said, “what’s this?”

Mac knew he was caught. His attempts to hide it were foolish and dangerous. If he had turned while he was with Dennis, he would have become a monster with him. He hung his head in shame.

It had taken longer for Mac to fall asleep than it did with Anna, most likely for the fact that he had more body mass than the teenaged girl. When he did, Dennis carefully placed him in the front passenger seat so he could monitor him and pretend that Mac was ok.

Pretend that Mac was still that kid that he played cards with every night, still that kid that he shared a room with, still that kid who helped him with his chores when he forgot and vice versa, still that kid who would sit and listen to him for the two months he knew him.

That kid.

That kid was 19 years old. Dennis was 21. Mac wasn’t even in his 20s and he was already dying. Mac used to tell him about his mom, how she would always make muffins each sunday and give the extras out to the hungry kids at church. How she would always pester him about how his collar was never fixed. How she would take him to the beach every once in awhile so he could find seashells along the sand. How at every turn she would always remind him that she loved him.

He hated to think about what she was doing now.

He had run out of gas after four days of driving. He checked in the bed and there were no more canisters of gasoline left inside for him to use. He sat and had a big meal, then packed the rest into his backpack and left the truck on the side of the road, carrying Mac in his arms.

He wouldn’t wake, he only slept.

Dennis didn’t know how much time he had before Mac woke up and he didn’t want to know. He recognized the signs farther back and knew that this was the road that would take him to the farm. If he cut through the woods, he would be there soon.

Which led him back to how green the leaves were.

They were getting paler.

He adjusted Mac in his arms and found him lighter than what he seemed to be. He looked down and found that he had gotten skinnier than before, the muscles he had gained while working at the farm seemingly dissolving. It made him easier to carry.

The bruises had spread and were not only covering his arms but also his legs and chest if he lifted up Mac’s shirt to look. They were deep, coiling masses of that disgusting black and purple that he had grown to despise. If he touched them, he feared that they would spread to him, so he covered his arms in cloth to avoid that happening.

He stopped many times on the way to rest and eat. He found it guiltily easier to carry Mac with how much weight he had lost. He felt horrible that he was almost thankful for it. 

But in the end, he knew he would get to the farm and find Mac help. The Greersons would welcome them back and send Mac to bed, where he would get better and come back looking his old self. They would go and play cards together and beat TJ with the slight of the hand.

That thought was what kept Dennis going even with the burning and his arms and legs.

It was on the third day of walking that he found Ranger’s Cliff, the ledge that was only a couple hundred feet away from the farm. He was overjoyed at finding something that he was so familiar with and set Mac down before running to the edge.

Standing at the end gave him a sense of familiarity and comfort that he couldn’t describe and all the fatigue from the walk left him as the wind slowly, like a river, flowed through his hair and under his clothes. He heard the birds chirping and felt the sun shining on his skin. He took a deep breath and smelled the scent of corn and the lush brush around him. He looked in the distance and saw the farm like they left it: green grass, herds grazing in the fields, and people working those same fields. Almost from here he could see Bucky Greerson manning the tractor.

He turned around to find Mac’s gaze on him with white, glazed over eyes.

Purple and black.


End file.
